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May 25, 2000 - The ups and downs of nest-building14A • The Suffolk Times • May 25, 2000 The ups and downs of nest - building As I walked out to the garden this morning I noticed that devastation had struck one of my bird boxes. Below it was a loose ball of nesting material scattered about. It was made up mostly of dried grasses with lots of feathers in between. Also there was a piece of Barbara's yarn she had put out for the orioles to use in building their hanging nests. Focus What I figured had happened was that the masked bandit, the raccoon, had found an active sparrow's nest in one of my boxes and ripped it apart to get at the eggs or young inside. This raccoon has found easy picking and probably knows every box on the place. The sad part about it is, I'm not sure how to prevent his devilish thieving. If you've ever watched a raccoon up close while he's eating, you've seen why this destructive rogue has become so thorough in his raids on my bird boxes. Those clever hands have no problem in reaching in the little entrance hole and looting out its tasty contents. I've noticed in the boxes that are deeper, where he can't reach his prey, he gets frustrated and rips the top of the box right off. Now you might think that is impossible but these ani- mals are very strong. I've actually had the boxes ripped off the trees and fence posts so that he can do his dead- ly deed on the ground. Yet you can't blame the raccoon. They have young to feed and they are skillful scavengers and my bird boxes are just one more way of taking an easy meal. What a terror it must be for that sleeping sparrow with his young nestled beneath, to be attacked by that roving hand of the raccoon. Nature does not always play a happy game. The perfect day On a cheerier note, I often come out in the garden when it is warm and sunny to sit and write. Today is one of those special days when the world is alive with bird songs, the temperature ON NATURE by Paul Stoutenburgh is warming up and green is every- where. I pull up to an old table that's out in the garden and sit myself down where I can view a 20- foot -tall holly tree that dominates the area. It looks a bit tattered right now for it's going through its shedding stage. Remember, evergreen trees and - bushes all lose their leaves at one time or another as they grow upward and outward. The pine drops its inside nee- dles and grows new ones out at the ends of its limbs. The holly does the same. Its inner leaves turn yellow and fall and its outer leaves burst out new and fresh green, giv- ing growth as it moves through the year's phase of growth. The holly still has its red berries of last winter. They've now become ripe and attract a multitude of birds who are feast- ing on them. Today it's catbird day and there are three or four or more of them picking holly berries and enjoying their feast. Every once in a while a robin will come in and take its share and then be off. Then there's the mockingbird, who has ruled over this holly all winter long. I wonder how many hundreds of berries its consumed and spread their seeds about. The history of this tree goes back 20 years or more when I planted it near the house where it was under the shade of trees. It became almost dor- mant, hardly growing an inch a year until I decided to move it out in the sun, out in the garden. Since then, it's bounded with growth and has taken its place in the center of the garden. How my father would have enjoyed this tree, for hollies were his specialty. As I sit here I can see a bird box I attached to the little tool shed about 20 feet from me and "Jenny wren" and her mate are checking it out. Jenny wren is the one that has that long piercing trill of a voice that lets you known she is always in the area. I watched her closely as her little bill opened and her song bubbled out. She goes in the box that was used last year 2x4 down in front of the house, where I had put up a big "For Sale" sign. "Birdhouses. 50¢ apiece." I waited patiently through the day for cus- tomers, but none came until late after- noon when Kathryn Fleet, bless her soul, came by and stopped and inquired about my birdhouses. I ran down to explain to her the finer points of my birdhouses in hopes of making a sale. Then all of a sudden "Jenny wren" (house wren), the same species of bird that is building in front of me now, flew in with a long blade of dry grass and popped into one of the birdhouses. Now there was salesmanship of the highest quality. Needless to say, Miss Fleet bought one of my bird boxes that day. While I'm on the subject of nesting birds, I have to relate my recent trip to Agway in Riverhead, where I saw an unusual nesting site. Barbara and I were looking over the plants in hopes of acquiring some for Mother's Day when my eye caught a rack of potted roses. You know the ones I mean, the black plastic gallon con- tainers with their healthy - looking rose just bursting out in buds? Well, this particular one caught my eye for it had at its base a perfectly formed bird's nest. Evidently, a house finch had found it an appropriate loca- tion and built her nest. Now when you bought your rose, you'd get a bird's nest with it. We wondered what its future would be. Hopefully, it would be left there until the very last in hopes its nesting plans would be fulfilled. As I watched the little wren working in her snug, newfound home, I realize how fortunate she is, like other cavity nesters, out of sight from the ever -pre- sent marauding crows and grackles that prey on birds' nests at this time of the year. Many a robin's nest I've found in the orchard, deserted because some hungry grackle or crow had feasted there. We often see the crow being pur- sued by small birds. Usually it is red - winged blackbirds that first come to attack the invader. "Keep out of our nesting territory and don't come back!" they scream as they dive -bomb the black invader, eventually chasing it out over the field. The vulnerable ones are the open nesters like the robins that are in con- tinual fear of being robbed of their nests' precious contents. No tree or shrub is overlooked by these roving bandits. Lucky that nature allows the parent bird a second chance to rebuilt and start anew. Nature never gives up in trying to reproduce its own. And so it is, the give and take during each nesting period. Some will make it, oth- ers will not. It's all part of the survival game that's played out not only now but every day of the year. Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh This noisy little house wren loves to build its nest in not only one of your bird boxes but In as many as she can find. After stuffing them with nest- ing material, she will select one In which to raise her young. and carries something out. Could she be cleaning the box out? Evidently this is going to be her home. But then it might not be, for wrens are noted for building in many boxes and using only one. This active little songster reminds me of my youth when I was trying to make my fortune in bird boxes. Some of you probably remember me telling this story before. I had assembled five or six birdhouses and tacked them to a The North Fork Animal Welfare League is hosting our First "Cause for Paws" fund - raiser for the year 2000. Raffle tickets are $100 which enables TWO PEOPLE to join us for a buffet lunch, cocktails and music at the Soundview Restaurant in Greenport on Sunday, July 23, from 12:30 to 3:30 p.m.. First prize is $10,000; 2nd and 3rd, $1,000 each; 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, $500 each. We will also have a 50/50 cash prize and raffles for other prizes. No tickets will be sold at the door. Winners need not be present to win. Only 300 tickets will be sold. Reservations should be in no later than June 19. RESERVATION 1. Send a $100 check or money order per ticket together with this reservation. 2. Make checks payable to N.F.A.W.L. P.O. Box 297, Southold, NY 11971 Name Mailing Address Town State Zip Telephone How many tickets How many will attend luncheon To ensure the success of this fund - raiser, we must have your check and reservation by June 19. Remember, only 300 tickets will be sold. If tickets are sold-out,- your heck will-be retumed -immediately.- • 14A • The Suffolk Times • May 25, 2000 The ups and downs As I walked out to the garden this morning I noticed that devastation had struck one of my bird boxes. Below it was a loose ball of nesting material scattered about. It Was made up mostly of dried grasses with lots of feathers in between. Also there was a piece of Barbara's yarn she had put out for the orioles to use in building their hanging nests. Focus What I figured ON had happened was that the NATURE masked bandit, by Paul the raccoon, had Stoutenburgh found an active sparrow's nest in one of my boxes and ripped it apart to get at the eggs or young inside. This raccoon has found easy picking and probably knows every box on the place. The sad part about it is, I'm not sure how to prevent his devilish thieving. If you've ever watched a raccoon up close while he's eating, you've seen why this destructive rogue has become so thorough in his raids on my bird boxes. Those clever hands have no problem in reaching in the little entrance hole and looting out its tasty contents. I've noticed in the boxes that are deeper, where he can't reach his prey, he gets frustrated and rips the top of the box right off. Now you might think that is impossible but these ani- mals are very strong. I've actually had the boxes ripped off•the trees and fence posts so that he can do his dead- ly deed on the ground. Yet you can't blame the raccoon. They have young to feed and they are skillful scavengers and my bird boxes are just one more way of taking an easy meal. What a terror it must be for that sleeping sparrow with his young nestled beneath, to be attacked by that roving hand of the raccoon. Nature does not always play a happy game. of nest - building Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh This noisy little house wren loves to build its nest in not only one of your bird boxes but in as many as she can find. After stuffing them with nest- ing material, she will select one in which to raise her young. The perfect day On a cheerier note, I often come out in the garden when it is warm and sunny to sit and write. Today is one of those special days when the world is alive with bird songs, the temperature is warming up and green is every- where. I pull up to an old table that's out in the garden and sit myself down where I can view a 20- foot -tall holly tree that dominates the area. It looks a bit tattered right now for it's going through its shedding stage. Remember, evergreen trees and bushes all lose their leaves at one time or another as they grow upward and outward. The pine drops its inside nee- dles and grows new ones out at the ends of its limbs. The holly does the same. Its inner leaves turn yellow and fall and its outer leaves burst out new and fresh green, giv- ing growth as it moves through the year's phase of growth. The holly still has its red berries of last winter. They've now become ripe and attract a multitude o birds who are feast- ing on them. Today it's catbird day and there are three or four or more of them picking holly berries and enjoying their feast. Every once in a while a robin will come in and take its share and then be off. Then there's the mockingbird, who has ruled over this holly all winter long. I wonder how many hundreds of berries its consumed an spread their seeds about. The history of this tree goes back 20 years or more when I planted it near the house where it was under the shade of trees. It became almost dor- mant, hardly growing an inch a year until I decided to move it out in the sun, out in the garden. Since then, it's bounded with growth and has taken it place in the center of the garden. How my father would have enjoyed this tree, for hollies were his specialty. As I sit here I can see a bird box I attached to the little tool shed about 20 feet from me and "Jenny wren" and her mate are checking it out. Jenny wren is the one that has that long piercing trill of a voice that lets you known she is always in the area. I watched her closely as her little bill opened and her song bubbled out. She goes in the box that was used last year and carries something out. Could she be cleaning the box out? Evidently this is going to be her home. But then it might not be, for wrens are noted for building in many boxes and using only one. This active little songster reminds me of my youth when I was trying to make my fortune in bird boxes. Some of you probably remember me telling this story before. I had assembled five or six birdhouses and tacked them to a /,x4 gown in cront of ine nouse, wnere I had put up a big "For Sale" sign. "Birdhouses. 50¢ apiece." I waited patiently through the day for cus- tomers, but none came until late after- noon when Kathryn Fleet, bless her soul, came by and stopped and inquired about my birdhouses. I ran down to explain to her the finer points of my birdhouses in hopes of making a sale. Then all of a sudden "Jenny wren" (house wren), the same species of bird that is building in front of me now, flew in with a long blade o� dry grass and popped into one of the birdhouses. Now there was salesmanship of the highest quality. Needless to say, Miss Fleet bought one of my bird boxes that day. w nue i m on ine subject of nesting birds, I have to relate my recent trip to Agway in Riverhead, where I saw an unusual nesting site. Barbar and I were looking over the plants in hopes of acquiring some for Mother's Day when my eye caught a rack of potted roses. You know the ones I mean, the black plastic gallon con- tainers with their healthy - looking rose just bursting out in buds? Well, this particular one caught my eye for it had at its base a perfectly formed bird's nest. Evidently, a house finch had found it an appropriate loca- tion and built her nest. Now when you bought your rose, you'd get a bird's nest with it. We wondered what its future would be. Hopefully, it would be left there until the very last in hopes its nesting plans would be fulfilled. As I watched the little wren working in her snug, newfound home, I realize how fortunate she is, like other cavity nesters, out of sight from the ever -pre- sent marauding crows and grackles that prey on birds' nests at this time of the year. Many a robin's nest I've found in the orchard, deserted because some hungry grackle or crow had feasted there. We often see the crow being pur- sued by small birds. Usually it is red - winged blackbirds that first come to attack the invader. "Keep out of our nesting territory and don't come back!" they scream as they dive -bomb the black invader, eventually chasing it out over the field. The vulnerable ones are the open nesters like the robins that are in con- tinual fear of being robbed of their nests' precious contents. No tree or shrub is overlooked by these roving bandits. Lucky that nature allows the parent bird a second chance to rebuilt and start anew. Nature never gives up in trying to reproduce its own. And so it is, the give and take during each nesting period. Some will make it, oth- ers will not. It's all part of the survival game that's. played out not only_ now but every day of the year. 14A • The Suffolk Times • May 25, 2000 The ups and downs As I walked out to the garden this morning I noticed that devastation had struck one of my bird boxes. Below it was a loose ball of nesting material scattered about. It Was made up mostly of dried grasses with lots of feathers in between. Also there was a piece of Barbara's yarn she had put out for the orioles to use in building their hanging nests. Focus What I figured ON had happened was that the NATURE masked bandit, by Paul the raccoon, had Stoutenburgh found an active sparrow's nest in one of my boxes and ripped it apart to get at the eggs or young inside. This raccoon has found easy picking and probably knows every box on the place. The sad part about it is, I'm not sure how to prevent his devilish thieving. If you've ever watched a raccoon up close while he's eating, you've seen why this destructive rogue has become so thorough in his raids on my bird boxes. Those clever hands have no problem in reaching in the little entrance hole and looting out its tasty contents. I've noticed in the boxes that are deeper, where he can't reach his prey, he gets frustrated and rips the top of the box right off. Now you might think that is impossible but these ani- mals are very strong. I've actually had the boxes ripped off•the trees and fence posts so that he can do his dead- ly deed on the ground. Yet you can't blame the raccoon. They have young to feed and they are skillful scavengers and my bird boxes are just one more way of taking an easy meal. What a terror it must be for that sleeping sparrow with his young nestled beneath, to be attacked by that roving hand of the raccoon. Nature does not always play a happy game. of nest - building Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh This noisy little house wren loves to build its nest in not only one of your bird boxes but in as many as she can find. After stuffing them with nest- ing material, she will select one in which to raise her young. The perfect day On a cheerier note, I often come out in the garden when it is warm and sunny to sit and write. Today is one of those special days when the world is alive with bird songs, the temperature is warming up and green is every- where. I pull up to an old table that's out in the garden and sit myself down where I can view a 20- foot -tall holly tree that dominates the area. It looks a bit tattered right now for it's going through its shedding stage. Remember, evergreen trees and bushes all lose their leaves at one time or another as they grow upward and outward. The pine drops its inside nee- dles and grows new ones out at the ends of its limbs. The holly does the same. Its inner leaves turn yellow and fall and its outer leaves burst out new and fresh green, giv- ing growth as it moves through the year's phase of growth. The holly still has its red berries of last winter. They've now become ripe and attract a multitude o birds who are feast- ing on them. Today it's catbird day and there are three or four or more of them picking holly berries and enjoying their feast. Every once in a while a robin will come in and take its share and then be off. Then there's the mockingbird, who has ruled over this holly all winter long. I wonder how many hundreds of berries its consumed an spread their seeds about. The history of this tree goes back 20 years or more when I planted it near the house where it was under the shade of trees. It became almost dor- mant, hardly growing an inch a year until I decided to move it out in the sun, out in the garden. Since then, it's bounded with growth and has taken it place in the center of the garden. How my father would have enjoyed this tree, for hollies were his specialty. As I sit here I can see a bird box I attached to the little tool shed about 20 feet from me and "Jenny wren" and her mate are checking it out. Jenny wren is the one that has that long piercing trill of a voice that lets you known she is always in the area. I watched her closely as her little bill opened and her song bubbled out. She goes in the box that was used last year and carries something out. Could she be cleaning the box out? Evidently this is going to be her home. But then it might not be, for wrens are noted for building in many boxes and using only one. This active little songster reminds me of my youth when I was trying to make my fortune in bird boxes. Some of you probably remember me telling this story before. I had assembled five or six birdhouses and tacked them to a /,x4 gown in cront of ine nouse, wnere I had put up a big "For Sale" sign. "Birdhouses. 50¢ apiece." I waited patiently through the day for cus- tomers, but none came until late after- noon when Kathryn Fleet, bless her soul, came by and stopped and inquired about my birdhouses. I ran down to explain to her the finer points of my birdhouses in hopes of making a sale. Then all of a sudden "Jenny wren" (house wren), the same species of bird that is building in front of me now, flew in with a long blade o� dry grass and popped into one of the birdhouses. Now there was salesmanship of the highest quality. Needless to say, Miss Fleet bought one of my bird boxes that day. w nue i m on ine subject of nesting birds, I have to relate my recent trip to Agway in Riverhead, where I saw an unusual nesting site. Barbar and I were looking over the plants in hopes of acquiring some for Mother's Day when my eye caught a rack of potted roses. You know the ones I mean, the black plastic gallon con- tainers with their healthy - looking rose just bursting out in buds? Well, this particular one caught my eye for it had at its base a perfectly formed bird's nest. Evidently, a house finch had found it an appropriate loca- tion and built her nest. Now when you bought your rose, you'd get a bird's nest with it. We wondered what its future would be. Hopefully, it would be left there until the very last in hopes its nesting plans would be fulfilled. As I watched the little wren working in her snug, newfound home, I realize how fortunate she is, like other cavity nesters, out of sight from the ever -pre- sent marauding crows and grackles that prey on birds' nests at this time of the year. Many a robin's nest I've found in the orchard, deserted because some hungry grackle or crow had feasted there. We often see the crow being pur- sued by small birds. Usually it is red - winged blackbirds that first come to attack the invader. "Keep out of our nesting territory and don't come back!" they scream as they dive -bomb the black invader, eventually chasing it out over the field. The vulnerable ones are the open nesters like the robins that are in con- tinual fear of being robbed of their nests' precious contents. No tree or shrub is overlooked by these roving bandits. Lucky that nature allows the parent bird a second chance to rebuilt and start anew. Nature never gives up in trying to reproduce its own. And so it is, the give and take during each nesting period. Some will make it, oth- ers will not. It's all part of the survival game that's. played out not only_ now but every day of the year. 14A • The Suffolk Times • May 25, 2000 The ups and downs As I walked out to the garden this morning I noticed that devastation had struck one of my bird boxes. Below it was a loose ball of nesting material scattered about. It Was made up mostly of dried grasses with lots of feathers in between. Also there was a piece of Barbara's yarn she had put out for the orioles to use in building their hanging nests. Focus What I figured ON had happened was that the NATURE masked bandit, by Paul the raccoon, had Stoutenburgh found an active sparrow's nest in one of my boxes and ripped it apart to get at the eggs or young inside. This raccoon has found easy picking and probably knows every box on the place. The sad part about it is, I'm not sure how to prevent his devilish thieving. If you've ever watched a raccoon up close while he's eating, you've seen why this destructive rogue has become so thorough in his raids on my bird boxes. Those clever hands have no problem in reaching in the little entrance hole and looting out its tasty contents. I've noticed in the boxes that are deeper, where he can't reach his prey, he gets frustrated and rips the top of the box right off. Now you might think that is impossible but these ani- mals are very strong. I've actually had the boxes ripped off•the trees and fence posts so that he can do his dead- ly deed on the ground. Yet you can't blame the raccoon. They have young to feed and they are skillful scavengers and my bird boxes are just one more way of taking an easy meal. What a terror it must be for that sleeping sparrow with his young nestled beneath, to be attacked by that roving hand of the raccoon. Nature does not always play a happy game. of nest - building Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh This noisy little house wren loves to build its nest in not only one of your bird boxes but in as many as she can find. After stuffing them with nest- ing material, she will select one in which to raise her young. The perfect day On a cheerier note, I often come out in the garden when it is warm and sunny to sit and write. Today is one of those special days when the world is alive with bird songs, the temperature is warming up and green is every- where. I pull up to an old table that's out in the garden and sit myself down where I can view a 20- foot -tall holly tree that dominates the area. It looks a bit tattered right now for it's going through its shedding stage. Remember, evergreen trees and bushes all lose their leaves at one time or another as they grow upward and outward. The pine drops its inside nee- dles and grows new ones out at the ends of its limbs. The holly does the same. Its inner leaves turn yellow and fall and its outer leaves burst out new and fresh green, giv- ing growth as it moves through the year's phase of growth. The holly still has its red berries of last winter. They've now become ripe and attract a multitude o birds who are feast- ing on them. Today it's catbird day and there are three or four or more of them picking holly berries and enjoying their feast. Every once in a while a robin will come in and take its share and then be off. Then there's the mockingbird, who has ruled over this holly all winter long. I wonder how many hundreds of berries its consumed an spread their seeds about. The history of this tree goes back 20 years or more when I planted it near the house where it was under the shade of trees. It became almost dor- mant, hardly growing an inch a year until I decided to move it out in the sun, out in the garden. Since then, it's bounded with growth and has taken it place in the center of the garden. How my father would have enjoyed this tree, for hollies were his specialty. As I sit here I can see a bird box I attached to the little tool shed about 20 feet from me and "Jenny wren" and her mate are checking it out. Jenny wren is the one that has that long piercing trill of a voice that lets you known she is always in the area. I watched her closely as her little bill opened and her song bubbled out. She goes in the box that was used last year and carries something out. Could she be cleaning the box out? Evidently this is going to be her home. But then it might not be, for wrens are noted for building in many boxes and using only one. This active little songster reminds me of my youth when I was trying to make my fortune in bird boxes. Some of you probably remember me telling this story before. I had assembled five or six birdhouses and tacked them to a /,x4 gown in cront of ine nouse, wnere I had put up a big "For Sale" sign. "Birdhouses. 50¢ apiece." I waited patiently through the day for cus- tomers, but none came until late after- noon when Kathryn Fleet, bless her soul, came by and stopped and inquired about my birdhouses. I ran down to explain to her the finer points of my birdhouses in hopes of making a sale. Then all of a sudden "Jenny wren" (house wren), the same species of bird that is building in front of me now, flew in with a long blade o� dry grass and popped into one of the birdhouses. Now there was salesmanship of the highest quality. Needless to say, Miss Fleet bought one of my bird boxes that day. w nue i m on ine subject of nesting birds, I have to relate my recent trip to Agway in Riverhead, where I saw an unusual nesting site. Barbar and I were looking over the plants in hopes of acquiring some for Mother's Day when my eye caught a rack of potted roses. You know the ones I mean, the black plastic gallon con- tainers with their healthy - looking rose just bursting out in buds? Well, this particular one caught my eye for it had at its base a perfectly formed bird's nest. Evidently, a house finch had found it an appropriate loca- tion and built her nest. Now when you bought your rose, you'd get a bird's nest with it. We wondered what its future would be. Hopefully, it would be left there until the very last in hopes its nesting plans would be fulfilled. As I watched the little wren working in her snug, newfound home, I realize how fortunate she is, like other cavity nesters, out of sight from the ever -pre- sent marauding crows and grackles that prey on birds' nests at this time of the year. Many a robin's nest I've found in the orchard, deserted because some hungry grackle or crow had feasted there. We often see the crow being pur- sued by small birds. Usually it is red - winged blackbirds that first come to attack the invader. "Keep out of our nesting territory and don't come back!" they scream as they dive -bomb the black invader, eventually chasing it out over the field. The vulnerable ones are the open nesters like the robins that are in con- tinual fear of being robbed of their nests' precious contents. No tree or shrub is overlooked by these roving bandits. Lucky that nature allows the parent bird a second chance to rebuilt and start anew. Nature never gives up in trying to reproduce its own. And so it is, the give and take during each nesting period. Some will make it, oth- ers will not. It's all part of the survival game that's. played out not only_ now but every day of the year.